


Enter the Wasteland

by Esselle



Series: Wasteland [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Masturbatory Encounters, Alternate Universe - Fallout, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Blood and Injury, Bonding, Gun Violence, M/M, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9813761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esselle/pseuds/Esselle
Summary: 'Shouyou hadn't been born into the Wasteland. He should have hated it, been terrified of it. But instead, Kageyama had watched him walk through it with something a little bit like wonder. Maybe he was just too stupid to know any better. Or maybe what he'd left behind was just that much worse.Despite knowing that the Wasteland took far more than it gave, Kageyama wanted him to have something a little bit like freedom.'--When Shouyou loses the only life he's ever known under mysterious and bloody circumstances, it's Kageyama who finds him in the aftermath, leaving Shouyou with no choice but to rely on the lone, brooding wanderer for survival. But as they journey through the unforgiving landscape, he starts to discover other sides to Kageyama—one of which just might be that he is a good man.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You guys know I’m a big fan of playlists and music for reading! So here’s links to the soundtrack if you want to get in an ambient mood; or if you want to listen to the same music Kageyama and Hinata tune into while roaming the Wasteland, you can listen to the radio playlist for that dusty atomic 50s vibe ^^
> 
> **Fallout 4 OST:** [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/album/7rGidzYxexJJ0OKin1RRHx) | [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kdOKjUfMPe0&list=PL3-Zr0Ym0FgypgVXl5U4kpSldMrH2momN)  
>  **Radio Station tunes:** [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/cesarmuela/playlist/1Bz8Xqf5g7I98wEYAfI2Ev?si=vQtsGQocQueWIUUtDIpaKw) | [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N7Fpp2VT5lk&list=PL_dZzj4H0GQKP--78TbXjzrLvctheSFQw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first arc of the Wasteland series, now on AO3!
> 
> Thank you to everyone on Tumblr who cheered on this story, and [reallycorking](http://reallycorking.tumblr.com/) and [Ellessey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellessey/pseuds/Ellessey) for the betaing and brainstorming help (and Ellie for rescuing the summary and tags in the 11th hour) <333

The Wasteland was a hell on earth.

Out there, it was blisteringly hot and the air was as dry as a microwaved piece of sandpaper. And it stank—not like any kind of natural smell, but an acrid, unhealthy odor that made Shouyou's eyes burn and his throat itch.

Maybe he was already dead. Maybe he'd died in the Vault with the rest, and this was his punishment.

Their deaths were on his hands, after all.

Either way, if he wasn't dead yet, he would be soon. He had been walking for ages. His body ached, his vision swam, he needed water. He had brought nothing with him when he ran.

He could be content, he thought, with dying. At least that way, he could forget what had happened. And out here, in hell, burning and gasping for air or a drop of water, his body about to collapse underneath him—at least out here, he was finally free of the Vault.

He walked and walked, until he couldn't anymore, and then he sank to his knees, ready to give in. His vision was shimmering, shivering, blurring the horizon. In the far distance, dark shapes seemed to move, lumbering, but he knew this was just his exhausted eyes playing tricks on him. He closed them, not expecting to open them again.

But when he did, he wasn't alone.

It was night when he woke, the air cooler. He could hear the crackling of a fire, the sounds of people talking. He was rescued! Gasping, desperate for water, he tried to sit up, but he couldn't.

His hands and feet were tied.

Confused, he tugged on the ropes, but they were tight. And then he heard laughter.

"Oy, the brat's awake."

A figure loomed into view over Shouyou, dark and silhouetted by the fire. "Good morning, darling," it said, and Shouyou could make out teeth bared in a grin that gave him chills.

"Who—" he gasped, but his throat was too dry for him to speak.

"That's no good!" the man said. "Get 'im some libations!"

A bottle of some kind was thrust into the man's hand, and he put the opening to Shouyou's lips, upending it so the drink spilled into his mouth and over his chin and neck as the gang roared with laughter. Shouyou's hopes for water were immediately dashed when the liquid burned his throat on the way down—what in the Wasteland was _that?_ He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but whatever it was, it had unstuck his voice.

"Who are you?" he gasped out, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Just the question I was looking to ask you myself," the man said. Then he grabbed Shouyou by the hair, pulling him upright, and Shouyou yelped in pain and fright. Something cold and sharp and smelling of rust was put to the side of his face, and he froze, falling silent. "My friends and I were all surprised when we found you lyin' out for dead in the sand, so we rescued you. Never seen someone wearin' clothes like yours before. The blood's a different story, though, seen plenty of that!"

They all laughed uproariously. They must be curious about his white shift that he wore, just as he was about their strange clothing. All of them wore leather hides, some studded with spikes, all grimy and tough. In contrast, he only had the one seamless robe, shapeless and long sleeved, falling to his ankles. It had been pure white, but now it was stained brown with dirt and red with blood.

"This is what we wore," he said. "In the Vault." At his words, a hush fell over the group.

"Did you, now?" the man asked, his voice low. "You're a Vault Dweller, then?"

"Y-yes," Shouyou stammered. "I was."

"Well, that's just… perfect," the man said, scraping the blade of his knife gently across Shouyou's cheek. "You can introduce us to all your friends and family back home."

Shouyou froze. "No," he said.

The knife halted on his skin. "No?"

"I can't," Shouyou said. "They're dead."

The man laughed in surprise. "Even better! Tell you what, you bring us back to your Vault and we'll split the riches in town. Fifty-fifty. Only one of you, and seven of us, that's too generous on my part."

"And if I don't take you back?" Shouyou asked.

The knife was at his throat in an instant. "Then I'll kill you and find the thing myself. But not before we make you _wish_ you'd been a bit more gracious for the hospitality we've shown you."

Shouyou swallowed, felt the blade of the knife knick the skin of his throat.

"What do you say, darling?" the man asked him.

Shouyou turned to look him dead in the eye. "I'm _not_ going back there," he said, his voice unwavering.

The man blinked. "That is just too bad." He motioned one of his friends over, had him untie the rope around Shouyou's wrist. "That is just too, terribly bad, my little friend."

"What are you doing?" Shouyou asked, as the ropes dropped away.

"Keeping up my end of the bargain," the man said, snapping his fingers. Someone yanked one of Shouyou's arms straight out, and as much as he struggled, he couldn't move away. The man twirled his weapon in hand, and Shouyou could now see that what he'd thought was a knife was enormous, with a fat, curved blade, big enough to take off a hand in one swing.

Which, he realized, was about to be demonstrated on him.

He screamed, trying desperately to yank away, as the man raised the blade above his head, bringing it down heavily—

A _crack_ echoed through the air, and then followed a sound like someone had just squashed a fruit. The man staggered and the knife fell into the dirt. Shouyou looked up, bewildered, and saw the reason.

He'd been shot, straight through the temple. He keeled backwards, dead.

The rest of his gang flew to enraged action, but the mysterious newcomer was deadly precise and far more skilled. Shouyou threw himself into the dirt as bullets flew through the air around him, hoping a stray shot wouldn't find him.

Finally, all around him was silent. Slowly, he raised his head, squinting past the firelight into the darkness.

There was a figure approaching. Shouyou sat up, hands held in front of him to show he was unarmed. His feet were still bound, so running would be useless. Then the figure moved into the firelight, and he fell back, scrambling backwards over the ground in horror.

It had no face.

There was just a misshapen, leathery mass where it's face should be, but no mouth, no nose, no eyes. Some sort of monster borne of the Wasteland radiation.

It stooped to pick up the knife the gang leader had dropped and Shouyou turned onto his hands and knees, trying desperately to put distance in between them.

 _"Hey,_ " someone said, and Shouyou whipped his head around, almost hoping one of the bandits had survived to save him. But they all lay dead.

 _"HEY,_ " said the voice again, angry-sounding now, and he snapped his attention back over his shoulder to the nightmare creature. Was it…?

The creature reached up a hand, felt about along its neck, and then pulled off its face. Or rather, not its face—the mask it was wearing.

Underneath it was a man. Just a normal man—even more normal than the ones who had found and tied Shouyou up. His eyes were hard as stone, yet they lacked the manic gleam of the bandits. His mouth was set in a line just as hard, frowning.

"Stop crawling away," he said, crossly.

Shouyou gaped at him. "S-sorry?"

The man sighed, and walked to him, crouching when he reached him. He slipped the knife under the ropes around Shouyou's ankles and in one, easy movement, cut them off, before tossing the weapon back into the dirt. Shouyou stared at him, wide-eyed.

"You're welcome," the man said, dryly.

"Thanks!" Shouyou yelped, belatedly. "Thank you, for saving me."

The man waved his hand. "Not for that."

"But—"

"I just saw the Raiders. Didn't even realize someone had been dumb enough to get caught by them."

Shouyou's mouth fell open. "I'm not—dumb!"

The man gave him a look that suggested he very much thought otherwise.

"I was unconscious when they found me," Shouyou said. The man's eyebrows raised even higher. "I've been out here for days without food or water!"

"You are a mess," the man said bluntly.

"Yes!" Shouyou shouted. "I am! So _thank you_ for _saving me!"_ He spun around, crossing his arms, pouting like a child. Not particularly caring that he looked immature. The first person he'd come across in days (who wasn't threatening to kill him) was an asshole. Great.

Rustling noises from behind him made him turn back. The man was rummaging through a nearby Raider's pockets, turning them inside out. Finding nothing, he sighed, slinging his long barreled gun back over his shoulder.

"You're leaving here already?" Shouyou asked. "Where are you going?"

"Town," the man grunted.

"Where's that?"

Another _look._ "Far."

Shouyou blanched at the thought of another long, hopeless walk alone. "Can I—"

 _"Definitely_ not."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!"

The man made a face. Affecting a very high pitched, nasally voice, he whined, "Can I come with you?"

"That is not how I sound," Shouyou huffed.

"The answer's still no," the man told him.

"You can't just leave me out here," Shouyou said, somewhat desperately. "You have to help me!"

"I can leave you," the man said. "And I don't have to help you. I'm not interested in helping people. Only surviving."

"What about me?" Shouyou asked. "How am I supposed to survive?"

"Not my problem," the man said, proceeding to walk off, out of the camp. He raised a hand in farewell.

Shouyou stood, staring after him in shock. He could not believe the man was going to leave him here to die.

Grimly, he stooped down, snatching up the wicked knife by the handle. As the man walked off, Shouyou followed, always several steps behind him like a determined duckling. Before long, the man stopped again.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

Shouyou glared. "Surviving."

"If you expect me to protect you—"

"I don't!" Shouyou snapped. "I'm _just_ following you. You don't have to do anything to help me. All I'm trying to do is figure out where to go."

The man considered this. "Fine," he finally said. "But if you step on a mole rat nest, I'm not even turning around."

 _"Fine,"_ Shouyou said. The man started to stomp off again. "Hey, what's your name?"

The man didn't respond.

"Come on, you can _talk_ without helping me, right?" Shouyou wheedled. Still nothing. "If you don't tell me, I'm just going to call you Eyebrows."

The man wheeled around. _"Eyebrows?_ Why?"

Shouyou put his index fingers up over his own eyes in a V, forming an angry line. "Because you've always got 'em like this."

The aforementioned scowl on the man's face deepened. "It's Kageyama."

"I'm Shouyou!"

Kageyama shook his head. "Fantastic."

Shouyou scampered after him, his long knife clutched tightly in his hand. Somehow, the weapon and the new companion made him feel oddly, wildly cheerful. "Hey, what's a mole rat?"

"If I told you, I'd be helping you."

"Wow, Kageyama, you're the worst."


	2. Chapter 2

Following Kageyama turned out not to be the easiest task in the world for Shouyou. To start, the other man was tall. Each of his strides were practically two of Shouyou's, and he walked fast on top of it.

Then there was the heat. The hot weather was oppressive, especially once day came again and they were surrounded by nothing but hot sand and only the occasional scraggly tree for shade. Shouyou lagged slower and slower the longer they walked, unused to the harshness of the climate. More than once, he would lose sight of Kageyama's back over the course of an hour or two, only to see him again in the distance, resting in the shade of a thin tree. But he would always get up and move on before Shouyou caught up to him, and Shouyou was forced to trudge along, never stopping, always moving, moving forward.

Shouyou should also have long since died of dehydration. But, as he walked along, following the dusty trail of Kageyama's footprints, a few items appeared in his path—a little, shriveled fruit, that tasted alright and was dry, but not _too_ dry. A bar wrapped in some kind of silver foil that turned out to be edible, if bland. And eventually, just when he felt like it might be better to claw out his own throat rather than stand the painfully dry, scratchy feeling another second, he came upon a tiny emergency flask of water. Shouyou stared suspiciously at Kageyama's distant, retreating figure.

Near to evening, their path led them to an abandoned town, which loomed tall and dark on the horizon. Kageyama had already disappeared through a gap in the crumbling outer wall, and Shouyou followed, feeling his misgivings rise once he got a better look at the skeletal state of the buildings, the utterly empty streets, the signs of bloody past skirmishes. He had never seen things like houses and stores outside of books before, but he was sure they weren't supposed to look as terrifying as these ones did.

Kageyama was nowhere in sight. Shouyou began to feel, for the first time, true stirrings of terror. He had no idea which direction to turn, how to fend for himself, not even what was safe to eat, or how to get it. Despite his bold statements that he didn't need Kageyama's help, he was useless without the tiny bit of assistance Kageyama had been giving him. If he'd really lost track of Kageyama, he was as good as dead.

Just as he thought this, a door to his left creaked open and he squealed, jumping away from it.

But it was just Kageyama, standing there with a sour expression on his face.

"Would you get in here?" he hissed. "I already checked this place out and if we're quiet, we should be fine. But keep screaming like that and you might wake up some Ferals."

Shouyou scrambled inside and Kageyama closed the door quietly behind him. "What are we doing in here?" Shouyou asked.

"We're making camp," Kageyama told him. "This area isn't safe at night."

Shouyou shuddered. It hadn't been safe the night before, either, when Kageyama had gotten in a shootout with the Raider gang. He didn't want to know what made this area so much worse.

"Here," Kageyama said, tossing something at him. Shouyou caught the bundle with a surprised grunt, staring curiously at it. "You can't keep walking around in that," Kageyama explained, gesturing at the long shift Shouyou was wearing. "You can't run, and it's shit for camouflage. Everyone can see you from miles away, which means they'll see me, too."

Oh. The pile of things he was holding were… clothes. Shouyou pulled them apart, looking at the different items, confused.

"What?" Kageyama asked. "Put them on."

Shouyou tilted his head. He lifted up one item, a piece of fabric that split into two halves in the middle, with two holes at the bottom. He looked at Kageyama, who was wearing something similar over his legs. "These go on my legs?"

Kageyama stared at him. "Have you never seen pants before?"

"Pants!" Shouyou said, grinning at this new word. "Nope, we only ever wore these." He tugged at his shift.

"That's fucking weird," Kageyama said.

"Well, pants are weird, to me." Shouyou held up another piece of the strange clothing. "This?"

"That's a shirt," Kageyama said, slowly. "I don't get how you've never—"

"Oh, yeah, okay." Shouyou cut him off. "This would go up here." He held it over his torso. "I get it, the armholes."

"Do you need—" Kageyama started to say and then pinched his mouth into an angry frown. Shouyou looked up at him, a smile forming on his face.

"Were you about to say 'help', Kageyama?"

"Don't be stupid," Kageyama told him. "Get changed."

It did end up taking Shouyou quite a while, despite knowing the basics of where each article of clothing should go. The pants, he learned, had to go on from the wide open hole at the top, pulled up over his legs, and not the other way around. The shirt he assumed was fine, until Kageyama informed him he was wearing it backwards with a laugh.

Meanwhile, Kageyama roasted beans over a ludicrously tiny fire, poured half of them into a rough wooden bowl and handed it to Shouyou. Kageyama drank straight from the can himself, tipping it into his mouth and tapping on the underside until he'd drained it.

Shouyou thought about bringing up the obvious—that Kageyama now seemed to be willingly assisting him, even if he didn't want to admit it. Instead, he kept quiet as he ate, wondering if (or when) Kageyama's hospitality would finally run out.

After awhile, the firelight started to burn low, and Shouyou could feel his eyelids drooping. He was starving, but he was also exhausted. Mechanically, he shoveled the hot food into his mouth, nodding off every couple of mouthfuls. Eventually, he came to a point when he woke to Kageyama pulling the bowl out of his hands.

"Go to sleep," Kageyama said.

Shouyou lay down on the hard, wooden floor, which may as well have been a feather soft bed, he was so tired. "Kageyama…"

"Hmm."

"You'll wake me up, right?" he mumbled. "In the morning."

"Yes, dumbass," Kageyama said. "Just don't take forever when I say we've gotta move."

"I won't!" Shouyou protested sleepily. "'Kay, night."

He was awake just long enough to hear Kageyama grumble out a response, before he finally drifted off, fast asleep.

Shouyou woke suddenly in the middle of the night. The fire had burned out, and the room was quite cold. He shivered and looked around, blearily—and realized Kageyama was nowhere to be seen.

He sat upright with a gasp. "Ka—" He cut himself off, remembering Kageyama's warnings earlier: noise attracted unwanted attention. Carefully, he stood, glancing at his surroundings. Kageyama's belongings were still near where he'd been sleeping, which had to mean he wasn't far.

A soft noise caught Shouyou's attention, and he turned his gaze over to the door of the next room. It was slightly ajar, and he slowly approached it, pausing right before to listen.

He heard the noise again, an unmistakably human gasp. It had to be Kageyama. He _hoped_ it was Kageyama. Cautiously, he pushed the door open, peering inside.

Kageyama sat against the wall nearest the door, long legs splayed out messily in front of him, his head tipped back, eyes closed. At first, Shouyou thought he was just sleeping.

Then he gasped, again, eyebrows knitting, and Shouyou moved closer, wondering if he was having a bad dream. He looked closer, and realized that Kageyama had his hand down the front of his pants.

Shouyou frowned. "Are you okay?"

Kageyama gave a startled yelp, banging his head back against the wall. He yanked his hand out of his pants, and gave Shouyou a wide-eyed stare, looking startled and furious all at once. "You're awake?!"

"I thought something happened to you," Shouyou said. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing _happened_ to me," Kageyama croaked, voice hoarse. "I was just—I needed—"

Shouyou crouched in front of him, concerned. A nightmare would be understandable. The Wasteland seemed full of nightmares, and he'd only been out in it for a few days. "Can I do anything?"

Kageyama's mouth fell open. "What?! No!"

"Why not? You've been—" He didn't quite want to remind Kageyama that he had been helping Shouyou, after he'd been so reluctant at first. "Let me do something for you, at least."

Kageyama stared at him. "You can't be serious."

"I am!" Shouyou insisted, leaning closer. Kageyama seemed to be struggling to get away, although his back was already to the wall, but he froze when Shouyou said, "Just tell me what you need."

Kageyama blinked at him, slowly, expression unreadable. Then, even slower, he pulled down the waistband of his pants.

Up until that point in his life, Shouyou had never seen another person's body naked or undressed. That was now no longer the case.

Things clicked, in his mind, vague half-descriptions and terse, threatening warnings from the Vault Overseer. Admonishments from the time they were children. Unclean things unfit for their sealed away home, that would get them sent out into the Wasteland for the crime of contamination, for endangering the population.

Shouyou fell backwards, yelping. Kageyama yelped, too, and then shushed him, shoving his dick back into his pants, looking horrified. Shouyou covered his eyes, as though that would make it so he hadn't seen—but he had, he _definitely_ had.

"Are you m-m-mas—" He couldn't even bring himself to say it. _"Touching—"_

"No—" Kageyama started to say, and then, "Yeah! What's it to you?"

"It's nothing to me!" Shouyou wailed softly, slowly keeling over until his forehead touched the floor. He felt so stupid, even though there was no way he could have _known—_ he'd never done it before, or known anyone who _had—_

"Am I not allowed to jerk off in the peace and comfort of my own camp?!" Kageyama hissed, sounding indignant and outraged.

"You are!" Shouyou said from the floor. "I just didn't realize. I'm sorry!"

Kageyama sighed. "Okay, look just—sit up, you're making this way worse than it needs to be—it's _fine._ Just… go back in there and I'll… wait. Until you fall asleep again."

Shouyou looked up at him. Kageyama was determinedly not making eye contact with him, and though it was dark, Shouyou could make out the blush rising in his cheeks. "Are you… sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure!" Kageyama snapped. "I can't do this with you freaking out—"

"I'm _not—"_

"I'm already soft—"

Shouyou squealed and crawled towards the door. "Okay! Okay, I'm going to sleep!"

He didn't close the door all the way, because even with what was happening on Kageyama's side, the thought of there being an actual, solid barrier between them was frightening. Shouyou could imagine any number of things coming in to carry him off, or worse, while Kageyama was… occupied.

He flopped back onto the hard floor, forced himself to slow his breathing, to close his eyes and sleep, not think about the forbidden, dangerous things Kageyama was doing on the other side of the wall. It didn't matter, anyway. Kageyama was dangerous already, and they were already stuck out in the Wasteland. There was no point in stopping him.

"Are you still listening?" he heard Kageyama hiss through the gap in the door.

"No!" he hissed back. It was a lie.

He was so, so curious.

 _"Stop listening!"_ Kageyama whispered.

"I can't!" Shouyou said, because if Kageyama kept _talking_ to him, what was he supposed to do?

"Forget it, I'm giving up," Kageyama huffed.

"No, it's—!" Shouyou gasped out, then squeezed his eyes shut. "It's okay. Just do it."

"What?"

"I said it's fine," Shouyou said. He sighed. "It's just… it's something Wastelanders just have to do, right? So…"

"It's not _just_ Wastelanders," Kageyama said scornfully. "Everyone does it."

"We didn't!" Shouyou protested. "If we did, we'd've been sent out _here._ That's why only Wastelanders do it."

Kageyama was silent for a long time. Then he finally said, "You've never… you've never jerked off before?"

"Stop _calling_ it that!" Shouyou moaned, curling up into a ball. "And no, I haven't."

"Holy fuck," Kageyama said. "No wonder most of you are dead."

"Kageyama!"

"Sorry, sorry," the other man mumbled.

"Will you please just get it over with so we can stop talking about this?" Shouyou pleaded.

"I'm not _trying_ to talk about—" Kageyama exhaled heavily. "Alright, you know what? Fine. But don't blame me when you get all uncomfortable."

"I won't!" Shouyou said. "I'm _not listening_ anyway!"

But he did. And it was uncomfortable.

He could tell Kageyama was trying not to make noise. For the most part, he _was_ quiet. But every once in awhile, sound would escape—those soft, tiny gasps, a muffled groan, a helpless whine. It sounded like he had his hand over his mouth, and the thought made Shouyou's stomach… clench. Uncomfortably.

The sounds continued on, long spans of silence between them at first, but getting more and more frequent as time went on. And then, he realized he could hear even the faint sounds of Kageyama touching himself. The soft slide of skin on skin.

Shouyou's cheeks burned, and he shoved his face into his arms. There was no way he was going to be able to even look at Kageyama in the morning. He didn't know what to think. This was so wrong, he kept thinking, except it _wasn't,_ because it didn't matter if Kageyama did it. There was no one for him to endanger. And there was no one to stop him.

But what was worse was that for each sound Kageyama made, Shouyou found himself thinking how it didn't sound wrong at all. It sounded fine, it sounded _nice_ _,_ even. And, maybe… Shouyou liked listening to it.

Kageyama gasped, suddenly, the sound morphing into a low, fractured moan that he quickly muffled, covered up, swallowed, and Shouyou felt his chest constrict and his face and stomach grow hot and uneasy. He tried to squash it down, like they'd been taught (forced) to do.

 _Why, though,_ part of him wondered. He didn't need to do that, anymore.

But then the door to the room was starting to open, and Kageyama was about to come back into the room. Shouyou went still and limp, hoping he looked like he was asleep. He heard Kageyama cross the room, heard his footsteps slow as he drew up alongside Shouyou. He could practically feel the dark-haired man's eyes on his back.

But then he moved on, settling down on the floor across the room, presumably to go to sleep himself.

Shouyou breathed out, slowly. His stomach was starting to calm, again, the heat that had flooded him beginning to ebb, now that he could no longer hear those noises.

He wasn't scared of Kageyama anymore, and he didn't think he had to be afraid of Kageyama leaving him out in the Wasteland to die, either. But it seemed like there were still a lot of other things Shouyou needed (or maybe just wanted) to learn about him, before he'd feel truly comfortable.

Slowly, as Kageyama's breathing slowed and became measured, Shouyou drifted off to sleep, as well.


	3. Chapter 3

The Vault Dweller was like a second shadow.

After the unnecessarily awkward first night they'd spent taking shelter in the abandoned town, Kageyama gave up on trying to keep his distance. For one, now that he'd gotten some food and a night's sleep under his belt, Shouyou had become far more capable of keeping up with him, only lagging behind when he got distracted by something, usually a stream or plant or other natural landmark. He'd never seen flowers, before.

And that was another thing. Kageyama could try to stay as aloof as possible, but the fact of the matter was, he was curious about the Vault Dweller. Shouyou had never been on the surface before. He wasn't as familiar with all the horrors out in the Wasteland, but neither did he know anything about fresh air, running water, natural sunlight. To Kageyama, the landscape was just an ugly, irradiated blight, but Shouyou saw something else. Kageyama had yet to determine what. Yes, sometimes it was frightening to him—they'd encountered two nests of giant mole rats so far on their trek and Shouyou had shrieked louder than the rats. Fortunately, he hadn't been scratched—Kageyama had killed the swarm before any had reached them.

But sometimes, Kageyama would turn to find he wasn't being followed anymore, to see that Shouyou had just… stopped, to stare up into the high branches of a barren gray tree. He never seemed scared then, even though the bark was blackened and gnarled, still deadened from the radiation. More than once, Kageyama had caught him reaching out to touch the trunks.

For his own part, Kageyama had also yet to determine the reason why he couldn't stop thinking about the small figure constantly buzzing about the edges of his vision, even on the rare occasions Shouyou wasn't actively demanding his attention. Hunting meant shooting enough for two, venturing into the wilderness meant always being aware of where the redhead was, he had to ration his water more carefully now. On one level, thinking about these things made sense, and Kageyama had traveled with companions before, if always only temporarily.

What he hadn't done with any other traveling companions was stare at them while they slept, worry that their habit of running off without warning would get them brutally killed, _think about them when he jacked off—_

No, he wasn't going to think about that again (for the hundredth time). Shouyou's round brown eyes staring up at him, asking if he could do anything for Kageyama, looking so hopeful right when Kageyama was so _close—_

Aaand he was thinking about it again. He needed a distraction.

Kageyama kept a shortwave radio at his waist. He mostly just used it to listen in to the news—bounties, distress signals, broadcast warnings. But there were other stations floating around the Wasteland, too, and he tuned in to one that was static, at first, until he got the frequency right. And then the buzz faded to the background as the crackle of music edged in.

Shouyou was walking alongside him, balancing on a tall fallen tree. He had his arms held out at his sides, which was fortunate, because as soon as the song came on, he spun so fast he overbalanced. Kageyama snapped a hand out to grab his arm.

"Be careful," he growled, and Shouyou stared at him, eyes large. When Kageyama let go of his arm, he raised it up in front of his eyes, staring at the spot Kageyama had closed his hand around. Kageyama wondered if he'd hurt him, then shook his head, continuing off. It would have been worse if Shouyou had fallen, anyway.

"Kageyama!" Shouyou said, breathlessly from behind him. He scurried along the tree trunk and Kageyama sighed. At this rate, they didn't need to worry about the dangers of the Wasteland killing Shouyou—he was going to break his neck on his own. "What is that?"

"What's what?" Kageyama asked. "What's that" was a phrase he was now hearing several times per hour, at every new thing Shouyou was seeing for the first time.

Shouyou pointed to the radio hanging at his waist. Kageyama frowned. "It's the radio. I already told you about this one."

"No, what is… that sound?" Shouyou asked, crinkling his forehead.

"The song?"

"The person," Shouyou tried to clarify, hands gesturing about in all directions. "Why is he _talking_ like that?"

Kageyama stared at him as realization dawned. "He's not talking… he's singing."

Shouyou's mouth opened in a wide _Oh._ "I've heard of that!"

"Heard _of_ it?" Kageyama repeated. "You've never _heard_ it?"

"Nope!" Shouyou shook his head. "So this is _music,_ then?"

Kageyama nodded. "Yeah."

"I like it!" Shouyou said with a grin.

"How come you didn't have any in the Vault?" Kageyama asked curiously. Maybe they hadn't had radios.

"They always told us that music had sub… sub…" He seemed to be having a hard time. Finally, he snapped his fingers. "Subliminal messages."

"Sub- _what?"_

"It's when you're watching or listening to something, but then all this stuff you can't see or hear is _also_ happening and it makes you think weird things."

"Like what?"

"Like, um…" Shouyou glanced quickly at him and then looked away, mumbling under his breath, "Like about sexual intercourse and stuff."

Kageyama stumbled over nothing. He wanted to ask more, but couldn't bring himself to force the words out. Now he was the one who had stopped walking, as Shouyou hopped along on the fallen tree trunk, his ears suspiciously red. "What…" Kageyama started to say, clearing his throat when Shouyou turned to look at him curiously. Kageyama rarely kept the conversation going of his own accord. "What was it like? In the Vault?"

Shouyou hmmm-ed to himself. "It was safe, I guess."

Kageyama didn't know what had happened to Shouyou's home. All he knew was that it had left an entire Vault population dead, had left Shouyou covered in blood, and that he never wanted to speak about it. Kageyama wasn't sure he'd call that safe.

Then again, neither was the Wasteland.

He stayed quiet after that and kept the music playing, and after a while Shouyou began to hum along, as if he'd grown up with songs, instead of just discovering them a few hours previous.

It wasn't too bad, having him along. It was different than the terse, wary days Kageyama had spent wandering the Wasteland with a gang of hired guns or occasionally providing protection for a traveling group of traders. Those alliances were fragile, and marked by mistrust, but Shouyou seemed to trust him readily. Kageyama didn't feel uneasy with the Vault Dweller at his back, nor did he feel the ever present sense of isolation that was the only thing the Wasteland had to offer besides giant bugs and madmen.

Of course, just as he was starting to get used to sharing the loneliness was right when everything went wrong.

About a week had passed, and they were finally nearing the outskirts of one of the bigger populated cities. Kageyama had never seen a reason to settle down in one—some of them were as dangerous as the Wasteland outside. But Shouyou was much less likely to get literally eaten alive behind city walls, and Kageyama had to make some much needed trade stops. His RadAway supply had nearly run out.

They had made it to yet another waypoint, a rusty old trailer park that Kageyama knew to be a fairly popular hub for drifters and traders, though they wandered in and out with the tide. Today, however, it was strangely silent. He wondered idly whether it had been hit by Raiders recently, or whether it just happened that nobody had come this way within the past few days. Either option could be likely.

"Hey, Kageyama, what's going to happen once we get to the city?"

"Don't know yet," Kageyama responded. Shouyou was a little ways off, puttering around the trailers overgrown with weeds. He pushed on one of the doors and jumped back in fright when it opened with a harsh metal squeal, then checked quickly to see if Kageyama had noticed. Kageyama quirked his lips in a smirk to show he had, and Shouyou scowled.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Shouyou asked, a bit petulantly.

"I mean that I don't know," Kageyama deadpanned. "Might stay for a little while, might move on. Depends on where my next job comes from. Need to make up all the caps I've lost with you guzzling all my food. Meat's not cheap, you know."

"I don't eat that much!" Shouyou glared. That was a lie.

"You'll have to get a job, too," Kageyama told him. "You can't just freeload."

Shouyou clapped his hands together. "I could help you with yours!"

Kageyama snorted. "Don't be stupid. You'd wind up dead." Shouyou didn't respond and after a moment, Kageyama looked over at him. He was standing near another trailer, eyes downcast. "What?"

"If…" Shouyou looked up at him. "If I don't work with you, though, doesn't that mean I won't really get to see you anymore?"

Kageyama stared at him. He hadn't really considered that, but… "Yeah, I guess so." He felt a strange pang in his chest—it would be a little weird, to go back to wandering the Wasteland alone. But it couldn't be helped.

"Oh," Shouyou said.

Kageyama looked away from him, turning his attention back to the task at hand. Even if the traders had cleared out, there was always the possibility one of them had left some supplies behind accidentally—especially if they'd been chased away. He tried to turn the handle of one of the trailers and found it was locked. Promising.

He raised his rifle and brought it slamming down on the handle.

"What are you doing?" Shouyou asked.

"What does it look like?" He crunched the gun down onto the handle again. After another two tries, it broke off. "I'm trying to see if there's any—"

The door swung open, and he came face to face with the reason why the door was locked, and the park had been abandoned.

 _"Shit!"_ Kageyama gasped, stumbling backward.

A wheezing rattle erupted from the trailer, and the Glowing One that had been trapped inside it lunged for him, narrowly missing.

It had the shape of a man, but green light seeped from every pore of its body, the radiation incubated within it pouring out, luminous and deadly. It's eyes and mouth leaked light, like it was hollow and lit from within.

It was strong, and fast, and if it managed to wound him, the radiation would finish the job of killing him.

Fortunately he'd already had his rifle in his hand, and now he raised it—but he was too close to aim properly, and his first shot clipped its shoulder, making it jerk, but not stopping it in the slightest. He fumbled for the pistol at his hip.

A strangled scream from his left grabbed his attention and he jerked his eyes to the side. Shouyou was rushing for him—no, rushing for _it,_ machete raised high over his head, screaming bloody murder.

"Shouyou, NO!"

With a sickening _thwack,_ Shouyou swung the machete down, burying it in the Glowing One's neck. Not enough to stop it, but enough to distract it.

To Kageyama's horror, it turned on Shouyou, lashing out at him, and he fell backward onto the ground. Kageyama took aim with his rifle, as the creature halted for a bare second, and fired.

He hit it in the back of the head, a clear shot straight through its brain, and it stopped moving, before it slumped forward onto the ground in a pile of limbs.

"Shouyou, get away from it," Kageyama gasped, running for the Vault Dweller's side. The radiation was still highly dangerous, even now that it was dead.

Shouyou didn't respond. Kageyama knelt by his side where he lay, grabbing onto his arm, but Shouyou whined, and he pulled back.

His hand came away bloody.

"Oh, no," he muttered. "No, no, you fucking _idiot—"_ He ripped back the sleeve of Shouyou's shirt, to see that his arm had been gashed open by the Glowing One. The edges of the wound were already tinged a sickly, bubbly white, over which the blood flowed red and wet. "Shit. Shit, shit, _shit—"_

"Kageyama?" Shouyou asked, his voice whispery soft. "It hurts…"

"The wound's not fatal," Kageyama choked out. "It's not—"

The wound wasn't fatal. But the radiation was. And they had almost no RadAway left. Not enough to stop something like this.

"Okay," Kageyama said. "Up, get up. Get up now."

"I don't… feel good…" Shouyou said.

"That's called radiation poisoning," Kageyama said. "And it's gonna kill you if we don't move, so we need to move, _fast."_

He pulled Shouyou up to his feet, and the redhead retched, suddenly, and then vomited all over the ground. His legs shook violently, before giving out. Kageyama caught him, before looping an arm under his knees and hefting Shouyou off the ground, holding him against his chest.

"I can… walk…" Shouyou told him.

"Yeah, yeah," Kageyama said. "You're always too fucking slow, though, we'll reach the city faster this way. They have doctors and stuff. They'll stitch you back up."

"L-like clothes," Shouyou said, sounding too deliriously happy. "Like _pants."_

"Yeah." Kageyama nodded. "Like pants."

Shouyou giggled, at that, but it sounded _off,_ somehow. Like he hadn't even meant to laugh. He was already shaking in Kageyama's arms, shuddering from head to toe. Kageyama cradled his tiny body closer.

"It's not far," Kageyama told him. "It's not far."

It might be too far. He might not make it in time.

"You stupid moron," he murmured. "Why would you try and _fight it?"_

Shouyou smiled up at him, the line of his mouth wobbly and weak, his eyes unfocused. "To help you."

Kageyama blinked down at him before looking up determinedly at the horizon. It was getting dark, and he couldn't see the city, yet. He needed to stop and make camp. But he wouldn't. He wasn't planning on stopping until he got to the city, or Shouyou died.

Whichever came first.


	4. Chapter 4

It would have been roughly a six day walk from the abandoned trailer park to the city gates. Kageyama planned to make it in three.

This allowed almost no time to stop, no meals, no sleep. When he did try to rest, it was only out of necessity, when his footsteps faltered as he stumbled along and he nearly brought himself to his knees, causing the shivering bundle in his arms to wheeze in shock, possibly out of protest.

Then Kageyama would find a safe place to lay for a few, scarce minutes. Curled up in the corner of a ramshackle cabin, tucked away at the base of an old tree. He would gently lower Shouyou to the ground before laying his head on the Vault Dweller's chest and closing his eyes. This way, if Shouyou stopped breathing while he was asleep, his ragged breaths dying in his chest, it would wake Kageyama.

That only happened once, on their way. Shouyou had been getting steadily worse, and worse. His skin was a sickly whitish-grey, the color of birch bark, tinged with green. His lips were painfully cracked and bleeding, and Kageyama had nothing to put on them, no balms or oils.

The worst were his eyes. Kageyama felt, almost, like he'd been taking them for granted, when they'd been shiny and lit up like Shouyou was plugged into a power source. Now they were dull and filmy, and his irises were ringed a deep, angry red. They were constantly leaking, runny, which gave him the appearance that he was crying, all the time.

When his heart had nearly given out that one moment, Kageyama had been looking straight into his eyes as they stretched wide, as Shouyou had gasped for air before going utterly limp. Kageyama had grabbed the RadAway—the last of his stores—and pried Shouyou's mouth open with his fingers, jamming the tube down his throat, cursing and praying. To whom, he didn't know. When he'd felt that faint heartbeat under his fingertips again, he decided he didn't care who'd answered.

He didn't know why his world had narrowed down to this one focal point, aside from not wanting to watch Shouyou die in agony in his arms. Kageyama had watched plenty of people die before. But somehow, this was different. Shouyou hadn't been born into the Wasteland. He should have hated it, been terrified of it. But instead, Kageyama had watched him walk through it with something a little bit like wonder. Maybe he was just too stupid to know any better.

Or maybe what he'd left behind was just that much worse.

Despite knowing that the Wasteland took far more than it gave, he wanted Shouyou to have something a little bit like freedom. Lives were short out here, but he wanted Shouyou to live a little while longer.

When he finally made it to the city, in just a little over three days, Shouyou was still breathing.

It was already evening when they arrived, and it took them a long time to gain admittance. The guards posted at the outer wall didn't want to let them in with Shouyou looking infected the way he did, and Kageyama couldn't simply fight the men and force his way inside. After nearly an hour of arguing, explaining, showing the wound, pleading, it was luck that finally got them through the gates. One of the guards changing shifts recognized Kageyama from a job they'd done years ago—the man had wandered the wastes and knew how to recognize radiation poisoning when he saw it.

Smog City itself was built up from an old industrial power plant complex. The smoke stacks had long since stood inactive, but the lights that dotted all the sprawling towers and walkways had been hooked back up to generators. At night, the city was a sea of light amidst the barren darkness of the Wasteland.

Kageyama hadn't set foot in the place for at least a year, but he was able to get hurried directions from the guards to the med sector. Twenty minutes later, he was banging on the locked door of the small hospital clinic.

"Hello? I need help!" he shouted, not caring who he woke. "I'm not going to stop banging until you open up, so—"

The door finally swung open, and a tall man in glasses opened the door, a scowl already on his face. "Come back in the morning." He started to shut the door, but Kageyama wedged his foot in the gap.

"You're open until he's okay," he said, hefting Shouyou up in his arms. "And if he dies, I make sure you stay closed. Permanently."

The man seemed unmoved by his threats. "Move your foot, or I'll break it."

"Tsukki!" a voice called from behind, and another man appeared in the hallway past the door. "Radiation poisoning…"

"I'm not blind," said the first. "We can't let in anyone who asks just because they were too stupid to carry enough RadAway."

"He's a Vault Dweller," Kageyama said. "We can pay you well."

"Likely a lie," the tall man pointed out.

"Then I'll be jailed."

"How does that help me?"

"He's not going to live to see morning," said the second man.

"Shut up, Yamaguchi," said the first. He glared out at Kageyama, then shoved the door open wider. "If you tell anyone we did this, I'll have you jailed regardless of money."

He strode away, and the second man, Yamaguchi, motioned Kageyama quickly inside. "Sorry," he said, shutting the door behind them. "He hasn't slept in seventy-two hours."

"Neither have I," Kageyama told him.

Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, Kageyama learned, were the only two permanent doctors in the city, though others occasionally rotated in and out. The hospital was small, but clean and organized, with rooms for inpatients and even a small surgical wing. This was where they brought Shouyou.

"Lay him on the bed, there," Tsukishima said. "This is going to take more than just pumping him full of meds, now. The wound's probably infected, and the radiation may be nested in some of his internal organs." He looked up at Kageyama. "How much are you willing to pay?"

"Whatever it takes," Kageyama replied, as he settled Shouyou on the bed as comfortably as he could.

Tsukishima nodded. "Alright, then. Get out of my operating room."

Kageyama opened his mouth to protest, but Yamaguchi quickly ushered him outside. "It won't do any good to watch," he said. "And you need rest, too. You can use one of the rooms here, I won't tell him. Go on."

Kageyama stood, anchored in place outside the door once it had shut, before coming to his senses and wandering back down the hall to an empty room. He sat on the bed, feeling useless. He doubted he'd be able to fall asleep, despite not getting any for the past three days.

Hours and hours later, as he lay staring at the ceiling, footsteps outside caught his attention. He sat up, instantly, and Yamaguchi stuck his head into the room. Kageyama stared at the other man.

"He'll make it," Yamaguchi said, and Kageyama bolted out of the room without hearing another word.

"Hey, wanderer!" a voice shouted behind him and he turned to see Yamaguchi pointing towards a room on the left.

"It's Kageyama," he called back, and Yamaguchi waved, before Kageyama ducked into the room he'd indicated.

It was a single room with one rickety old bed, the lights dimmed. The soft _beep_ of a heartbeat monitor was the only real noise. Otherwise, it was quiet.

Shouyou looked to be fast asleep in the bed. An IV drip of RadAway was being fed into his arm. As far as Kageyama could tell, not much seemed to have changed. He still looked far too pale and sickly, was too deathly still. But looking closer, he could see the inflammation around his eyes had almost disappeared, and his lips had been wiped clean and seemed to be healing.

Kageyama pulled up a chair, laying his head down on the cool mattress. Shouyou would make it, Yamaguchi had said. Surely that meant it would be okay, if Kageyama closed his eyes… just for a little while…

He woke up to the soothing feeling of a hand smoothing through his hair. No one had done that since he was a child. Blearily, he picked up his head.

Shouyou was awake, watching him, playing with his hair. His eyes were clear, but sleepy. The redness had almost disappeared entirely.

"I have to pee _so bad,_ " he told Kageyama.

Before Kageyama even realized what he was doing, he had pulled himself forward, dragging Shouyou into a hug. The smaller man didn't move, at first.

"What does this mean?" he asked.

Kageyama let go of him, awkwardly. He didn't know what it meant. "Sorry."

Shouyou blinked at him. "It wasn't _bad._ You're just the first person to do that to me."

"Hug you?" Kageyama asked, disbelievingly.

"Hug, is that what it's called?" Shouyou grinned at him, looking for a moment like he'd never been sick at all. "Well, hug me again, Kageyama."

Kageyama scowled at him. "Don't be demanding. I just carried you for three days straight to make sure you didn't die."

The grin slid off Shouyou's face and Kageyama's stomach roiled. The Vault Dweller hadn't done any of this on purpose, after all. Admittedly, it had all come about because he'd been trying, however suicidally, to help Kageyama.

"Not that I…" Not that Kageyama had minded bringing him here, but that seemed a wildly inadequate things to say.

"I want—" Shouyou began haltingly. "I want to hug you, again. I want you to hug me."

He put out his small hand.

 _Fuck it,_ Kageyama thought, as he hefted himself onto the bed, careful of the IV tube stringing into Shouyou's arm under his shirt. He pulled Shouyou against his chest, threading fingers through his hair, and felt arms slide around his waist.

"I don't really remember what happened after that thing scratched me," Shouyou said, softly. "I just kind of remember you, being there, the whole time. I couldn't really see much and… after a while I couldn't see at all, but I still knew you were there."

He buried his face in Kageyama's side, thin arms tightening their grip.

"I knew you were with me."

One week ago, Kageyama cared for no one but himself, wanted nothing but to survive.

How quickly things could change.

"Don't leave me now," Shouyou said.

"I'm not going to," Kageyama said, without hesitating.

Shouyou looked up at him, stunned. "But I can't help you. You said it yourself."

"We'll figure it out." Kageyama ground his knuckles lightly into Shouyou's hair against his scalp. "I have to pay your hospital bill, anyway. Do you know how expensive that's going to be? No way you're getting out of helping with that one." 

For a moment, he thought about mentioning the Vault, how the supplies doubtless stored inside could easily be a way out of the steep debt they'd accrued in one night. But then he recalled the look in Shouyou's eyes any time it was brought up, empty and strange, like he was remembering a vague dream, or perhaps a nightmare. Kageyama resolved to shelve that option. Despite what he'd told Tsukishima, there were other ways he could pay.

"Fine!" Shouyou laughed, wide and open, before wincing slightly, putting a hand to his mouth. His lips were still raw and painful, and he ran his tongue over them to wet them.

Kageyama ached just looking at him.

"You had a pretty rough week," he said, smoothing his hand through Shouyou's hair again.

"It was okay," Shouyou said, closing his eyes. "I got to meet you, so…"

He had his face tilted up, a small smile playing across his lips. In a week, he'd lost his home, all the people he'd ever known in his life, been stranded in the harsh environment, been kidnapped and nearly cut to ribbons, been forced to rely on a stranger to survive, and spent three days dying of radiation poisoning.

And yet he was okay, because he'd met Kageyama.

Kageyama started to raise a hand, almost brushed Shouyou's cheek with his fingers, leaned down closer.

Shouyou opened his eyes. "I really, _really_ have to pee now." He squirmed against Kageyama's side.

Kageyama pulled back. "Do _not_ pee on me."

"Help me get to a bathroom!" Shouyou said frantically.

It was probably better to wait for now, before he did anything, Kageyama figured. Shouyou was still healing, and he had no experience with anything like this, it sounded like. What _this_ was, exactly, Kageyama didn't know yet, himself.

But, he thought, as he hauled Shouyou and his IV stand out of the room in search of Yamaguchi—it might be worth it to find out.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entry is the first of a longer series I have planned, which I am posting as I go on my Tumblr. They'll all be uploaded here in full, eventually, but not until I'm fairly confident I've got all the details nailed down. The second arc is [now being posted](http://esselley.tumblr.com/post/157284983089/alright-folks-thank-ainu-for-this-happening), if you want to keep up as it goes along. Thanks for reading!
> 
> [I'm [@esselley](http://esselley.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, [@Esselle_hq](https://twitter.com/Esselle_hq) on Twitter]


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